


Pyrrha's Place

by EvilFuzzy9



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blackmail, Degradation, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/M, Oral Sex, Public Display of Affection, ntr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:23:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilFuzzy9/pseuds/EvilFuzzy9
Summary: Cardin blackmails Pyrrha instead of Jaune, and he does it in exactly the way you'd expect. [RWBY] [NTR, dubcon, degradation, light smut]





	

_Meet me tonight at the clocktower. Wear something sexy._  
  
The contents of this letter resounded in Pyrrha's mind. Although the sheet of paper on which it had been written was long since crumpled up and reduced to ashes, she could still see the words with perfect clarity as they swam before her mind's eye.  
  
Feeling indignant, yet knowing that she had to endure this for Jaune's sake—for  _all_  their sakes—Pyrrha absentmindedly worried at the straps of her blouse. It was not the most revealing thing a student of Beacon had ever worn. Heck, it wasn't even really any skimpier than her usual outfit, but then that at least was a  _warrior_   _uniform_.  
  
This, however... this was something that would only be worn to look attractive. Pyrrha hardly knew why she'd kept such a thing in her wardrobe; she was a serious girl by nature, and dedicated to the goal of becoming a huntress. She didn't come to Beacon looking for a husband. Of course, if she found such a person in the course of her learning, then she could see herself pitching woo and making love...  
  
But that wasn't her aim in coming to this school. Romance, sex... these were natural facets of human existence, and she did not scorn people who longed to find true love, or even necessarily people who just wanted a hot fling. That wasn't who  _she_  was, though, or at least it did not define her. Still, perhaps it was the vague hope that she  _might_  find someone nice, and might therefore feel desirous of engaging in a relationship, and might even want to wear something cute for them, that had made her pack this outfit with all her other things.  
  
And it was  _cute_ , to her mind. While it exposed an amount of cleavage which the prudish might call indecent, and didn't cover nearly as much of her legs as would have been sensible in this cool night air, Pyrrha didn't know if she would call it  _sexy_. That wasn't a word she typically used, nor something she often considered. Frankly she had only a general idea of what the opposite sex found appealing, knowing from experience that most straight guys usually lingered over the sight of her cleavage. Many, such as Jaune for the first few days of their acquaintance, would look only briefly before blushing and averting their gaze. Others would stare longer, and act only somewhat abashed when they met her eyes. But a very noticeable and irksome few—one man in particular standing out in her mind—would look exclusively at her chest and never meet her eyes at all.  
  
Such did Cardin when he saw her approach, his gaze slipping immediately south of her visage. He leered undisguisedly at the sun-kissed cleavage bared by her top. It wasn't much more than she usually showed, but still Pyrrha felt a shiver from the intensity of his look. She stared at his face and tried not to redden under his gaze. She usually didn't mind it that much if people glanced at her cleavage, at least not so long as they were equally willing to meet her eyes. But, Cardin...  _ugh._  There was just something about his stare that made her feel dirty.  
  
Still, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to smile.  
  
"Well?" she asked him, stopping and standing stiffly three feet away.  
  
Cardin still looked at her chest. It made Pyrrha self conscious to perceive his eyes glued so intently thereupon.  
  
"Pose for me, babe," he finally said, attempting a suave tone yet only managing to sound oily and insipid. "Show me what you've got."  
  
Pyrrha bit back a grimace, and after taking a calming breath she affected a stereotypically cute and inviting posture. Cute, but not sexy. She could see that distinction in his eyes.  
  
The disdain and disappointment therein... it cut her rather deeper than she would have liked.  
  
"Is that the best you can do?" he asked. "A pity. Maybe I should turn those documents in after all..."  
  
"No!" Pyrrha blurted out, her eyes widening. "I—I'm sorry. I can do better!"  
  
"Can you really?" said Cardin skeptically.  
  
Pyrrha swallowed. Knowing miserably that she had to satisfy this guy to stave off his threats, she turned in such a way as to present her backside, while rotating her torso to show her bust simultaneously. She puckered her lips and raised a finger to gently suckle, crossing her free arm under her breasts to push them up and apart. She breathed heavily, making her bosom heave with thoracic expansion and contraction, and she backed up her bottom, flexing her buttocks and feeling a slight breeze catch the hem of her skirt.  
  
"Is that better... d-darling?" she asked him, nearly choking on the last word. A shiver ran down her spine, and she saw Cardin leer hungrily at her posterior.  
  
There was amusement in his eyes, and also a touch of scorn.  
  
"Your panties aren't very sexy," he said. "Do better, next time."  
  
Pyrrha winced despite herself. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the wind must have blown her skirt sufficiently to expose what she wore underneath.  
  
"My panties? Why should they matter?" Even as she asked this, she felt like a fool for saying it. The reason was obvious, even if she did not want to contemplate it. And she didn't want to think about what this suggested. It was too unpleasant a notion, too dreadful yet to consider.  
  
"You know why," said Cardin in his smug, oily tone, gesticulating with a condescension that deeply irked her. He stepped toward her with a swagger and puffed out of his chest, leering next at her bosom. "It's only natural for a girlfriend to wear sexy underwear when she meets her boyfriend. At least, if she wants to make him  _happy_."  
  
Pyrrha shivered at these words, and the obvious meaning behind them. It took her a fair bit of effort to neither step back in disgust or advance in defiance. More effort still to keep standing in place when he reached out to touch her, to brush his fingers against her cheek. It was shamefully electrifying, that contact, exciting in a way that deeply disturbed her.  
  
Her face warmed.  
  
"Well, I guess you're still nice to look at," Cardin said at least, as if he was making a very reluctant concession. "You're cute when you blush, anyways."  
  
Pyrrha's cheeks flamed all the more deeply at this remark. She tried to pull back reflexively, but Cardin had a hand on the small of her back, and he rather drew her in closer. Her face wound up pressed against his chest by this, and despite herself, Pyrrha inwardly noted that Cardin had a very solid body. Whatever his shortcomings in character and intellect, he was still a powerfully built young man, the sort of guy whom more shallow girls might certainly find very attractive.  
  
His hand moved down from her back, and it came to a rest over the rear of her skirt. Another shiver raced up Pyrrha's spine, and she took in a sharp breath. Cardin's smell filled her nostrils. It was not a bad smell, even if he did go a bit heavy on cologne. Indeed, with acclimatization it might even grow to be a smell that she savored.  
  
This thought perturbed her. She didn't want to grow acclimated, to get  _used_ to this...  
  
...did she?  
  
Cardin squeezed her ass, and Pyrrha lost her train of thought.  
  
  
  
  
"What have you got on today?" Cardin asked Pyrrha the next time they met under the clocktower.  
  
She stepped into the light, showing that she wore an outfit similar to the one from before, save that the neckline was scooped a bit lower, and the hem of her skirt trimmed a little higher. Moreover she was blushing, looking more bashful and less bitterly resigned than last time. Cardin surveyed her clothes with mild appreciation.  
  
"Well, the outside is better," he said at length, making a point to boredly examine his fingernails for dirt. "But underneath?"  
  
Pyrrha gulped. There was no wind tonight, no breeze strong enough to flip her skirt like before. Cardin knew this, and he understood exactly what he was asking her to do. It gave Pyrrha a shameful thrill to see that look in his eyes, the joy he took in dominating her like this.  
  
Gulping, she lifted up the front of her skirt. Cardin watched eagerly.  
  
"Here," Pyrrha said, blushing as red as her hair, unable to look the man in the eye. "Do you like this?"  
  
Cardin looked at the black lace of Pyrrha's panties. They were smaller and scantier than her last pair by a fair deal. He grinned, pleased to see this, and he looked next at her bosom. Here he noticed a sign of something curious—he could see the outline of her nipples through the cloth of her shirt.  
  
"You aren't wearing a bra," he observed.  
  
Pyrrha's blush spread down to her cleavage as if to emphasize this realization.  
  
"I'm not," she confirmed.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I... just wanted to. Not wear a bra, that is."  
  
"You're lying," Cardin said, smirking. "What's your  _real_  reason?"  
  
Pyrrha gulped. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she ejaculated.  
  
"I thought you would like it."  
  
"You thought right," Cardin conceded, smirking. "I do."  
  
Pyrrha shivered, and she puffed out her chest a little. She still held up the front of her skirt.  
  
"Does it...?" she started to say, looking uncertain. "Does it make you...?"  
  
She trailed off before finishing, and she let fall the hem of her skirt.  
  
"Mm? Does it make me  _what?_ " asked Cardin expectantly.  
  
"N-No, it's nothing," Pyrrha murmured, clasping a hand to her breast. "I'm sorry."  
  
She didn't meet his eyes.  
  
Grinning, Cardin placed a hand over Pyrrha's and squeezed. As a consequence he also touched her bosom rather indecently, grasping and rubbing the mound of one of her tits.  
  
Pyrrha did not protest.  
  
  
  
  
Pyrrha smiled at Cardin, her cheeks a florid pink. She walked over to him in the midst of the cafeteria, ignoring the questioning looks of her teammates, carrying her food on a tray. Her bosom heaved, and its motions seemed curiously noticeable today, and she subtly swung her hips as she approached.  
  
"Hello, darling," she said demurely, shivering a little at her own words. "May I have this seat?"  
  
There wasn't much room to either side of Cardin. Not enough, at least, for her to sit on the bench without causing inconvenience to one of his neighbors. Nonetheless Cardin nodded and shifted, angling himself to present his lap. Pyrrha knew what he intended by this action. It was precisely what she had expected—what she had  _hoped for_. Taking the invitation with perfect grace and suspicious enthusiasm, she slipped her way over the bench and plopped her firm, round backside squarely on Cardin's thigh.  
  
This action stirred some comment in the area, more perhaps for the oddity of Pyrrha being with Cardin than for the bold show of her sitting on his lap. There were plenty of young couples at Beacon Academy, and such public displays of affection were far from uncommon. But few of those couples were as incongruous to the mob as were this apparent pairing of two such mutually unfriendly persons.  
  
Pyrrha blushed, overhearing some of the nearby whispers. She wriggled her hips on Cardin's lap, rubbing her posterior very close indeed to his crotch. Cardin meanwhile continued to eat, outwardly showing no sign of notice or care for Pyrrha's presence, not until she raised a spoonful of mashed potatoes to his mouth.  
  
"Here, darling," she said to him, her face no less pink than before and her eyes suggestively half-lidded. "Eat up."  
  
Cardin smiled.  
  
"Thanks," he said, looking at Pyrrha with a glance that was less fond than possessive, less warm than victorious. Opening his mouth, he permitted the redhead to spoon the food therein. He ate it with relish, loving what this represented, what it meant, what it  _suggested_  to everyone who watched.  
  
He swallowed, and casually he laid a hand in Pyrrha's lap, wrapping his arm around her waist.  
  
"Do you like it?" she asked coyly, shifting her backside and laying her free hand atop Cardin's.  
  
"It's delicious, sweet cheeks," Cardin said, rubbing his hand down her thigh.  
  
Pyrrha shuddered pleasurably, her expression turning borderline obscene for a fleeting moment. A soft, cute whine escaped her mouth.  
  
"Don't tease me," she said with a pout and a simpering manner that was nothing like her usual self. She was not referring to how he called her  _sweet cheeks_.  
  
Cardin grinned more widely and brushed a thumb between her legs.  
  
Pyrrha gasped and seized up at this, her eyes rolling nearly to the white. A low but unmistakeable moan slipped loose from soft, kissable lips. She looked pleadingly up at Cardin, but he shook his head with a wry smile.  
  
"Not here, babe," he said, stroking again above the 'nothing' twixt her thighs.  
  
Pyrrha bit her lips to keep from whining more loudly.  
  
  
  
  
She approached him in the shadow of the clock tower, her face red and her breathing labored. Her bosom heaved within a scandalously tiny blouse, and she blatantly held up the front of a handkerchief-sized skirt. It was clear from the way her breasts hung in her top that she wore no bra, and Cardin could see blatantly that she also wore no panties.  
  
Pyrrha's blush was intense, and she looked at him with a slavish expression, begging and wretched and adoring and shameless. She smiled shakily, crookedly, swinging her hips and displaying a smooth shaven pubic mound, the moist and rosy lips of her hot, juicy cunt. Everything about her posture spoke of servility and desire.  
  
"Master..." she called him there where no one else could hear, abandoning all pretense of equality in their relationship, all superficial conceit of being anything more than a slave to this man, a cutely slutty maid who polished his cock. "Master, I need you... I'm so horny❤"  
  
Once, Pyrrha would have been ashamed to speak like this. The first time she was forced by him to do this, it had left a taste of bile in her mouth. But now... well, by now, she was used to it. More than that, even: she  _enjoyed_ it.  
  
Cardin lazily unzipped his trousers. A thick, remarkably large cock flopped out. It was flaccid at first, yet it twitched and stiffened even as Pyrrha watched. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, as it always did on the first glimpse, and her loins moistened fiercely. Still holding her skirt up, she approached more swiftly, rather hurriedly nearing her master's erection.  
  
"Hey, babe. What do you think you're doing?" Cardin asked her, holding a hand up. "Who said you could go right to the main course? I don't know if you deserve this yet."  
  
Pyrrha licked her lips, her eyes flicking from Cardin's face to his cock.  
  
"I don't," she said breathlessly, unabashedly. "I don't deserve to be fucked by your cock. But you enjoy fucking me, don't you, master? I only wanted to do it for you."  
  
"A likely story," said Cardin dryly, his eyes gleaming. "But I don't need your cunt to get off. That's something you have to  _earn_."  
  
Understanding his meaning, and knowing how this would go from here, Pyrrha got down on her knees. She let go of the skirt and brought her hands to her blouse. Without hesitating she cast it off, throwing the garment an impressive distance, where it landed in the midst of a well-lit nighttime thoroughfare.   
  
Her breasts bobbed free of restraint, heaving, quaking, rising and falling. Cardin leered at the two impressive mounds of womanflesh, Pyrrha's cleavage a noticeable shade or two darker than the rest of her chest. She grabbed her tits and squeezed them together, rolling them in her palms, mashing and tugging them to make the globes squash and deform. She slid them about and made a very lewd show of them.  
  
Cardin watched with a loftily appreciative gaze, smirking at the view of Pyrrha's naked upper body and cutely blushing face. His cock twitched, standing now fully erect and throbbing visibly, the veins which stood out up and down the length of its shaft pulsing and quivering with a powerful flow of blood.  
  
Pyrrha opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue. At the same moment she lifted her breasts, no longer playing with them but presenting them for his use, service, and pleasure. Her eyes glittered with anticipation, and she wiggled her hips excitedly, bucking and bouncing a round, twerkable ass beneath her criminally short skirt.  
  
Cardin nodded, still smirking.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
Pyrrha did not lose a single moment. She thrust her head forward, mouth gaping as wide as it could open, tongue lolling obscenely, and she greedily, shamelessly thrust her lips down the length of his cock. She went down on him easily enough, even if she moaned and nearly gagged as it went into her throat. Despite much recent practice, Pyrrha had to pull her head back and gasp for air momentarily.  
  
Cardin threaded his fingers through her silken, scarlet locks. He pushed on her head, steering and guiding, encouraging her to carry on. Pyrrha's mouth went once more down, and she took again much of his cock into her throat. She made choking sounds and tried to pull away for a moment, before shivering and visibly relaxing, her expression growing serenely content. She suppressed her gag reflex.  
  
_Slurp, slurp, slurp._  
  
_Smack, smack._  
  
"Mmm...❤"  
  
Pyrrha sucked Cardin's cock. More than that, she deepthroated him. She took his erection as deeply into her throat as it would go, puffing out her cheeks and noisily slurping. Her breasts bobbed slightly with the motion of her head and torso—nothing gratuitous, but just enough to remind Cardin of their softness and weight.  
  
He watched intently, and growled in satisfaction as Pyrrha sucked his dick. He pushed harder on her head and she moaned gleefully into his manhood, taking his full length with a porn star's skill and a nymphomaniac's zeal. It was amusing to see the once strong and determined huntress-in-training reduced to this, diminished to aught but a blushing, buxom cock sleeve.  
  
Just thinking this gave him a rush of pleasure, and he saw comparable thoughts in Pyrrha's eyes, a counterpart enjoyment to match his own. She came in a gout, gushing juices over her thighs and onto the ground, gasping into his groin and shuddering from head to toe. Cardin shivered and yanked on her hair, pulling the redhead's mouth off of his cock with a convulsive strength as he felt his own ejaculation draw nigh.  
  
Pyrrha, going weak from the exhaustion of orgasm, was conscious just long enough to see Cardin's erection twitch, and to feel the blast of his ejaculate spattering her upper body, shooting onto her face and into her hair and all over her breasts. Some even got in her mouth, and this she happily swallowed.  
  
Then she slumped to the ground, numb and tingly from a very large orgasm. Her breathing was labored and her body was hot. Unceremoniously Cardin rolled her onto her belly, causing her tits to flatten on the grass. He flipped up the back of her skirt, too, baring a round, white ass that was flush with the recent exertion of her genitals.  
  
Pyrrha blushed happily at this, and she wriggled her hips a final time, feeling Cardin mount her and press the tip of his still-erect cock to her entrance.  
  
Not her pussy.  
  
But the ass was just as good, to her mind.  
  
With a lusty, husky, drawn out cry at the sensation of his manhood being thrust into her anus, Pyrrha relaxed and let herself bask in the warmth and the hardness of Cardin's sex. It was splendid.  
  
She was content.  
  
Huntress? Fall maiden? She didn't care about such things. All that mattered to her now was Cardin, he and his marvelous cock.  
  
It had been weeks since she'd even thought about the blackmail. She was simply his love slave, eager and willing in every way.  
  
That was only natural.


End file.
